


Wait for Me

by TheBravePrincessPure



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Anxiety, F/M, Hurt Clarke, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD (briefly mentioned), Post-Season 4, Praimfiya, radiation burns, sorry this is my first fic in a long time, sorta - Freeform, the radio works
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:05:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBravePrincessPure/pseuds/TheBravePrincessPure
Summary: Ai gonplei ste odon…Clarke stumbled into Becca’s lab, with the wave of radiation following quickly. She gasped for breath, gulping down burning, searing air as she clumsily hit the button to close the doors. Her hand slid down the wall as she collapsed on the cold tile floor, a stark contrast to her burning skin. The radiation suit did nothing to shield her from the pain she felt all over her body. Her fingers fumbled to get her helmet off, sending it clattering across the tiles. She laid her blistered cheek on the floor, closing her eyes when the coolness soothed her skin for just a second. It was agonizing, no escape from the pain. It was over her, around her, inside of her. Her throat felt like she swallowed shards of glass, and she could taste a metallic sting in her mouth. She let out a slew of coughs, barely noticing the blood splatter across the floor.So this is how the commander of death dies.(Canon-Divergent post-praimfiya fic where the radio actually works.)(Yes, I know this has been done before, sue me. Just wanted to add my own spin to it.)





	Wait for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Welcome to my first fanfiction that I've written in possibly 6-7 years. I used to love writing and decided to get back into it, so please, any constructive criticism is welcome! Also, formatting on AO3 is something I've never done before, so please let me know if there are any errors. I'm already planning a few other stories, so let me know if that is something you'd be interested in seeing. Enjoy!

_Ai gonplei ste odon…_

 

Clarke stumbled into Becca’s lab, with the wave of radiation following quickly. She gasped for breath, gulping down burning, searing air as she clumsily hit the button to close the doors. Her hand slid down the wall as she collapsed on the cold tile floor, a stark contrast to her burning skin. The radiation suit did nothing to shield her from the pain she felt all over her body. Her fingers fumbled to get her helmet off, sending it clattering across the tiles. She laid her blistered cheek on the floor, closing her eyes when the coolness soothed her skin for just a second. It was agonizing, no escape from the pain. It was over her, around her, inside of her. Her throat felt like she swallowed shards of glass, and she could taste a metallic sting in her mouth. She let out a slew of coughs, barely noticing the blood splatter across the floor.

 

_So this is how the commander of death dies_ , she thought to herself, closing her eyes.

 

It was unclear how much time had passed as Clarke lay on the floor. She faded in and out of consciousness, neither of which felt like a relief. Eventually, she opened her radiation suit, letting out a yelp of pain as she peeled the thick material off of her raw, blistered skin. Underneath, she wore a gray tank top and a pair of torn black pants, although she quickly shed the pants too, the material causing too much friction against her skin. She tried not to panic as she saw her own body; it was much different feeling the pain than it was seeing the damage the radiation had caused. She had open sores, blisters, and large scorched patches across all parts of her body. Clarke had to look away, finally looking up to look around the lab.

 

Empty. No one was there.

 

She had seen the rocket leave, so it shouldn’t feel so shocking, but it does. She leaned against the wall, wincing as the pressure sent a wave of pain over her. She knew she needed to get up, to go get the medical supplies and start treating her burns, but she couldn’t bring herself to get up. She placed her hand down, a little shocked to find the radio laying next to her on the floor. She picked it up, fully intending to send out a message, but couldn’t find the words to say right away.

 

_What happens if I don’t get a reply?_ She thought, the radio lowering to her lap. It was a scary thought. Her sacrifice could be all for nothing, if her friends didn’t survive. If Bellamy didn’t survive. Did they get the oxygen up and running? Or did they suffocate in the vacuum of space? Did they even manage to leave the atmosphere in time to escape the wave of radiation? Surely Raven was able to manage that… right?

 

_You won’t know if you don’t try_ , a small voice in her head replied.

 

She lifted the radio again, pressing the button. “Hel—“ she squeaked, her throat raw and sharp. She swallowed and tried again, her voice somewhat clearer this time, although the pain was clearly still there. “Hello? This is Clarke Griffin. Is anyone there?” She let out a string of gurgled coughs, releasing the button as her body relaxed. The radio crackled back, no response.

 

*

 

Meanwhile, on the ark, Bellamy, Raven, Murphy, and Emori stood around the control panel, Raven tinkering with getting all systems up and running. Monty, Harper, and Echo were off in the algae farm, figuring out a game plan for food. There was a spark from beneath the control panel, where Raven was laying on her back to reach the wires. Suddenly a sharp static sound, followed by “—anyone there?” sounded over the speakers, followed by an awful sounding coughing fit. Bellamy felt a chill run down his spine and he froze, before Murphy asked: “Holy shit, is that Clarke?”

 

Raven popped up from under the panel, hands immediately going to the radio controls. “Ark to ground, are you there? Over,” she said, her eyes flying over the screen, analyzing the signal. “Shit, our transmission isn’t sending,” she mumbled, pulling up a control menu.

 

Bellamy turned his head towards Raven, but she wasn’t focused on him. “She’s alive?” he asked, his voice small.

 

The radio sounded again. “Clarke Griffin to… anyone. Can you hear me?”

 

Bellamy could hear her voice, but it didn’t sound like the Clarke he knew. It sounded hoarse, strained, like she was struggling to get the words out. His eyes flickered from Raven to the speaker. Raven was frantically typing, zeroed into whatever she was working on. He doubted she had heard what he said. He stepped closer, putting his hand on the control panel. “Raven, we need to talk to her,” he said, his voice tight. His chest felt constricted, like he couldn’t breathe. His head was racing.

 

For the past hour they were on the ship, he felt like he had let a piece of himself die, drowning in radiation on the ground. She hadn’t made it back in time. She suffered in the radiation until she succumbed to it. But she had gotten the signal up for them. She sacrificed her life, so that they could live. _She suffered so we didn’t have to_ , he had thought.

 

But now, her voice was coming through the speaker, and he couldn’t do anything. He was helpless. He wanted to pick up the radio and tell her they were alright, and to thank her, and to ask if she was okay… but the signal wasn’t there on their end.

 

“I’m trying, Bellamy, give me a second,” Raven mumbled, sensing how tense he was next to her. Bellamy shifted his weight from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching his fists.

 

“Shouldn’t she be… you know…” Emori piped up, glancing between everyone in the room.

 

“Looks like she’s a cockroach too,” Murphy said with a smirk, putting his arm around Emori’s waist.

 

The speaker crackled back to life, followed by Clarke’s voice, this time sounding defeated, and obviously in pain. “If you can hear me, if you’re out there… I’m alive. I’m not… well, but still breathing,” she took a breath, although it hitched in her throat. “Barely. Everything hurts. My whole body is covered in burns, and I don’t think I can make it to the medical supplies.”

 

Bellamy felt a sharp pain in his chest, like a void had ripped its way through him, and he turned away from the control panel, running his hands through his hair. Even Murphy’s demeanor shifted, and he lost his smirk. Raven swore under her breath and crawled underneath the control panel again to try to get the wires working.

 

There was what sounded like a shuffle over the speaker, and then a cry of pain. Bellamy couldn’t take it anymore. He whipped around and pressed the radio button. “Clarke, I’m here! We’re here!” His voice was desperate, willing to try anything to just let Clarke know she wasn’t alone.

 

Murphy stepped forward and put a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “Just let Reyes get it up and running. You’ll be able to talk to her soon,” he said, trying his best to comfort Bellamy.

 

Bellamy looked at him, his eyes wild. The void inside of his chest was threatening to swallow him whole. “This is my fault. I left her there. She’s hurt, and I left her there,” he choked out, swallowing hard.

 

Murphy shook his head. “We had to leave, Bellamy. You know that. We wouldn’t be alive right now if we hadn’t left when we did,” he said calmly.

 

Bellamy shoved Murphy’s hand off of his shoulder, pushing past him. “So that makes this okay? She’s suffering, _alone_ , because I closed that damn door!” He shouted, rubbing a hand over his face.

 

“Shut up and let me work, Blake!” Raven barked from under the control panel. She scooted out from under it and sat up. “Emori, in the supply room, there should be some more tools. Grab them.” Emori nodded and hurried away. Raven turned her attention to Bellamy. “I told you to close that door Bellamy! You know Clarke wouldn’t have wanted us to die just because we waited for her!”

 

Bellamy shook his head, still not looking at Raven. “If she doesn’t get to those medical supplies, she could die,” he said, his shoulders slumping with what seemed like the weight of the world. The void in his chest widened, roaring so loud inside of his head.

 

Raven sighed. “When have you ever known Clarke to give up that easily?” she said, her tone growing softer. “She’s a doctor, she knows how to treat herself. You know as well as I do that she’s just as stubborn as you are.”

 

Bellamy turned to look at Raven, who was smirking at him. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. “Go float yourself,” he said, but there was no malice behind it. Murphy snorted.

 

The radio came to life again. “Griffin again. I don’t know if anyone can hear me,” she said, her voice much quieter than before. She sounded tired. “But if you can… I’m alive. Just, please… tell me if you are too.” Some static, then the radio went silent.

 

Bellamy sat down in the operator chair and put his head in his hands. “What are our chances of getting signal?” he asked Raven, finally getting some clarity through his fear. His chest still ached, but he pushed past it.

 

Raven pursed her lips, clearly trying to think. “I’m… not sure,” she admitted, her eyes flickering to the tools Emori came back in with.

 

Emori placed the box down by Raven with a huff. “I found some parts, it looks like they might fit the control panel. Thought they might be useful,” she said, and Raven nodded, grabbing a pair of pliers and sliding underneath the panel again.

 

Bellamy kept his head in his hands, feeling helpless. He wasn’t a tech wiz like Raven, he couldn’t help get the signal up. He had to rely on her skills and hope that they would get one soon. In the mean time, he would sit by the speaker, waiting for Clarke to radio again, and trying to quiet the roar of the emptiness inside of him.

 

*

 

Several hours passed before Clarke tried to get up. Her throat was burning, and she knew she needed water at the very least. It had been radio silence since her last transmission, and she knew she couldn’t sit on the floor forever, no matter how much it hurt to move. So she took a deep breath, wincing at the sharp pain in her throat, and pushed herself off of the floor. She couldn’t help but let out a yelp, but she kept a firm grasp on the radio, like a lifeline.

 

With her free hand steadying herself on the wall, she shuffled as slowly as she could through the lab. Each step felt like agony, but she knew if she waited any longer, she could be prone to infection, or dehydration. She stumbled into the supply room, which was kept stocked with barrels of clean water, and some non-perishables. She went straight to the barrels, setting the radio down so that she could cup her hands enough to bring the water to her mouth. It wasn’t cold by any means, but it did taste good, and got rid of some of the metallic taste in her mouth. She took a few handfuls before shaking her hands off and grabbing the radio again.

 

Clarke’s eyes scanned the room, searching for medical supplies. There was a large white tub on one of the shelves. She popped the top open, letting the lid slide back behind the box. “There you are,” she mumbled, pushing around the supplies to see her options. The antibiotic ointment was long expired, but there was sterile gauze and wraps, along with a bottle of alcohol. She grabbed as much as she could and headed into the lab, knowing she’d have enough space to do what she needed to do there.

 

*

 

“So… I found the medical supplies,” the radio sounded, lifting Bellamy’s head from the control panel for the first time in over six hours. He breathed a sigh of relief, resting his head against the microphone fixed to the panel.

 

“That’s your girl,” Raven chirped from under the panel, and Bellamy could hear the smugness in her tone, though he didn’t bother to reply.

 

“I also found water. It was obviously stale, but I didn’t mind. It’s better than nothing,” Clarke mumbled, clearly distracted. _Probably sorting through the supplies, prepping things,_ Bellamy thought.

 

“So my next step is to clean myself up as much as I can manage. Not sure how well I’ll do… wish me luck.” And with that, the radio transmission stopped.

 

Bellamy leaned back in the chair, looking under the panel to Raven. She had sent Emori out fifteen minutes ago with a part, saying if she found anything like it, to bring it back. Emori seemed just relieved to help. Bellamy wished he knew the feeling. “Any progress?” he asked, probably for the fifth time that hour.

 

“I swear, Blake, ask me that one more time and I’ll throw a wrench at your face,” Raven grumbled, roughly unplugging a wire from the main frame.

 

“Sorry, I just…” Bellamy trailed off, tilting his head back and slouching in the chair. He didn’t even have the words to describe how much he _needed_ to be able to talk to Clarke. To let her know how sorry he was, and that he wished he had never closed that damn door behind him. He wished he would have waited, even if that meant sending the others without him.

 

“Christ, stop thinking so loud,” Raven said, sliding out from under the panel and brushing her hands off on her pants. “I know you want to talk to her Bellamy, but you heard her. She’s fine. She has supplies, she’ll take care of herself.”

 

Bellamy lifted his head to raise an eyebrow at Raven. The radio sounded again. “Me again. I think I underestimated how hard this was going to be.” Clarke sounded out of breath, somewhat whiny, clearly in a lot of pain. “It’s one thing to work on other people. It’s another to work on yourself. I don’t normally feel the pain my work does to others,” she mumbled, clearly trying to catch her breath. Bellamy winced, clenching his jaw. His heart ached hearing her sound like this.

 

Raven shifted, reaching out a hand to Bellamy. “Help me up. I’m getting this thing running even if it kills me,” she said, her tone clipped.

 

Bellamy pulled her up without really thinking about it. His thoughts were running wild. He wanted to be there, to help Clarke. She was always the worst patient, never listening to anything Abby told her. He worried that she might do something stupid, or give up on it all together. He remembered when she twisted her ankle while out scouting for medicinal herbs and waited a week before going to medbay. By then, her ankle had swollen so much that she couldn’t lace up her boots. Her mom had said something about torn ligaments, and that Clarke needed to stop putting pressure on it for at least two weeks. But Clarke didn’t, stating that there was too much to do around camp, and that she had people to take care of.

 

Snapping back to reality, Bellamy looked over as Emori ran into the room, three mechanical parts in her arms. “This is what I could find,” she said, laying them down. Raven looked over each of the parts, carefully inspecting the cord ports on each one.

 

“Has Clarke radioed yet?” Emori asked, looking at Bellamy.

 

“Just a few minutes ago. She said she had found supplies, and was working on cleaning her wounds,” he said, looking at the screen, waiting for another transmission to come through.

 

“Well that’s good, right? That means she got up and was able to take care of herself,” Emori said, although she could tell Bellamy was still worried. He simply hummed in reply.

 

Monty, Harper, and Echo came into the room, Echo raising an eyebrow at all of the machines and the large screen in front of her. “What’s all this?” she asked.

 

Raven piped up. “Control room. Controls the entire ship, and all signals.”

 

Monty stepped forward, looking at the screen before turning to Bellamy. He thought about saying something about how rough Bellamy looked, like he needed sleep, but thought better of it. They were all still processing the loss of Clarke. “All systems in the algae farm are functional. Might take a while to actually get some product, but at least it works. What’s the status here?”

 

Bellamy cleared his throat. “Clarke’s alive,” he said, trying (and failing) to keep his emotions in check.

 

Monty blinked. “Bellamy, the chances of that with the levels of radiation are—“

 

“No, Monty. She radioed. She’s alive,” Bellamy said, looking up at Monty. He had dark circles under his eyes, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. Knowing Bellamy, he probably hadn’t.

 

“I’m working on getting a return signal, but with the radiation creating a barrier in the atmosphere, I need something to boost the signal,” Raven said, setting aside two of the parts Emori had brought in and picking up the third. “This might work.”

 

Just then, the speaker static sounded again, before being replaced by Clarke’s voice. It was quiet. “Griffin again. I cleaned everything I could reach. It might not be enough, but it’s all I could do.” A pause. “I’m exhausted. I’ll radio with an update when I can. If you’re out there, please… say something?” Her voice sounded so weak, like a child begging for something they have no hope of getting.

 

Monty let out a breath. “Shit… she’s actually alive.”

 

Harper stepped closer and put a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder. “There’s some rooms down the hall we can sleep in. Why don’t you go pick one out?” she suggested, clearly wanting to convince Bellamy to get some rest.

 

Bellamy, however, had other plans. “No, I… I need to be here,” he said. _For when Clarke radios_ was the unspoken part that hung in the air.

 

Raven snorted. “Bellamy, you’ve been bugging me for hours. Get the hell out of here and let me work.”

 

Bellamy shot a glare at Raven. Before he could respond, Murphy walked in. Bellamy hadn’t even realized he had left.

 

“Bellamy, let’s take a walk,” he said, and with his tone, Bellamy knew he needed something. After a moment of debate, he finally stood up, wincing as his back cracked. How long has he been sitting there? He looked at Raven. “Send for me if she calls again,” he said, like an order, although he knew Raven didn’t always listen.

 

Raven nodded, waving a hand in his direction. “Okay, okay. Just get out of here. You’re a distraction.”

 

Bellamy sighed and left with Murphy. When they were out of earshot from the control room, Bellamy placed a hand on Murphy’s arm to stop him. “What is this about? If you took me away for something stupid, Murphy, I swear—“

 

“You need to see this,” Murphy replied, with no hint of sarcasm or joking in his tone. Bellamy sighed and let go of his arm, following him through the hallways.

 

After a while, he rolled his eyes. “Murphy, why are we going to the prison cells? We have perfectly good rooms closer to the control room.”

Murphy shook his head, leading Bellamy to a cell in the middle of a row, gesturing inside.

 

Bellamy gave him a dubious look and stepped into the doorway, about to give him a retort about wasting his time, but he stopped in his tracks. The cell was covered, wall to wall, in drawings. Drawings of earth, destinations from the history books they used in school, animals from the biology books, plants from life skills… it was everywhere. A bouquet of lilies on the wall across from the bed caught his eye. He moved slowly into the room, sitting on the bed and staring at those lilies. He had seen a similar drawing in Clarke’s notebook, where she kept track of the uses of different plants. He didn’t think lilies had any medicinal uses, but he knew Clarke liked them regardless.

 

Murphy’s voice broke his focus. “I just... I was down here looking to get the stuff I left in my cell, and I walked past… I thought you should know about it,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck.

 

Bellamy looked up at him. “Thanks, Murphy,” he said, his voice quiet.

 

Murphy gave him a nod and walked off, presumably to give him space. Bellamy looked down at his feet, noticing the drawing on the floor for the first time. It was a drawing of a forest at night, with a lake at the bottom. It looked so similar to the area the dropship landed. He couldn’t help but smirk at the memories that came to him of the early days. _The days when we hated each other_.

 

The first glance of her as he held the lever that kept them from the ground. He had ignored her warning, brushing her off so quickly. He should have given more thought to it.

 

He remembered her asking about his gun, and not wanting to answer to her because she thought she knew better than him. _But she did. She always knew better_.

 

He remembered the instant panic he felt when she fell through that grounder trap. He remembered debating on letting her hand go and letting her fall. But his mother had raised a better man than that. She would have been so ashamed of him.

 

He remembered screaming at her that hanging Murphy was all her fault, just to get the guilt of it all off of his shoulders. He couldn’t handle the weight of the group alone, so he pushed it onto her. Looking back on it, it might have been the first time he let her take the responsibilities of a leader without protest. It was a shame that it was because he was too much of a coward to handle it alone, to take responsibility for his own actions.

 

Bellamy shook his head, letting out a breath and shifting to lay down on the bed. He could feel his eyes burning, begging him to get some rest. He reached up a hand to rub at his eyes and let out a long yawn. He looked to the wall that was connected to the bed. There were smaller drawings there, mostly plants. He recognized some of them from Clarke’s medical journal, but there was one he couldn’t place. He traced the lines with his finger, his touch feather light as to not disturb the charcoal.

 

*

 

Hours ago, Clarke had carefully lowered herself onto the fluffy bed, not even bothering to pull back the sheets. She knew the fabric would only irritate her skin, causing sores to reopen, and she was trying to minimize the amount of blood she got on the bedding.

 

Almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out. She wasn’t sure how long she slept for, but it felt like an eternity once she woke up. Clarke pushed herself into a sitting position, glancing at the cream-colored duvet. It was lightly stained, but nothing awful. She ran a hand through her hair as gently as she could, knowing there were burns on her scalp as well. She lost a few chunks of hair while cleaning her wounds, but she figured it didn’t matter. No one could see her anyways. She looked at the radio, sitting on her bedside table. She thought about radioing again, but after receiving no answers within the past 24 hours, she was starting to get discouraged.

 

_Maybe after I figure out a game plan_ , she thought. _And maybe take a shower_.

 

She stumbled to the adjoining bathroom, holding onto the sink to steady herself. She started coughing, her throat still feeling like it had been ripped to shreds. The metallic taste returned to her mouth and she spit into the sink. Sure enough, it was blood. _The radiation likely burned my esophagus. Guess I should keep talking and eating solids to a minimum_ , she thought as she turned on the faucet and leaned down to drink from it.

 

She turned on the shower, keeping it barely above cold, not wanting to shock her already damaged skin. She carefully pulled off her tank top, breathing harshly as it stuck to her wounds in a few places. She also removed some of the wraps she had done earlier. Not much had changed, although nothing was actively bleeding, which she took as a win. Some of the worst burns were on her back, which she obviously couldn’t reach. She hoped the shower would help.

 

She stood under the shower head, letting the water run over her body and trying to breathe through the pain of it. Ideally, she wouldn’t want anything touching her skin, even water, but if she was going to survive, she had to keep clean to avoid infection. She only lasted a few minutes before it became unbearable, and she had to shut the water off, bracing against the wall with her hands. She could feel her body shaking, and knew she might have pushed herself too far, too soon.

 

After patting herself dry as gently as she could, she rifled through Becca’s drawers to find something to wear. She supposed she didn’t have to wear anything, seeing as no one was around, but she wanted to follow through with old habits. She found a loose, lightweight shirt and a pair of worn pajama pants. After getting dressed, she picked up the radio from her bedside and sat on the bed.

 

She hesitated, hating the silence on the other end. It was as if the earth was trying to emphasize to her that she was alone, the last survivor on the ground. However, on the small chance that someone out there could hear her calls, well… it made it all worth it.

 

 

*

 

Bellamy didn’t remember falling asleep, but he woke with a start from a knock at the metal door frame. He sat up quickly, reaching for the gun he usually kept at his hip, tucked into his waistband. However, his hand came up empty. He had set it down on the window sill after his talk with Raven. He didn’t have much use for it when they were the only ones on the Ark. Old habits die hard.

 

“Woah, didn’t know you hated me that much,” Murphy said with a smirk, his hands raised in mock surrender. “Come on, Clarke is radioing.”

 

Bellamy stood up, following after Murphy quickly. When he reached the control room, Raven was sitting in the operator chair, her eyes scanning the transmission information. Emori was standing next to her, fidgeting with a tool, as if it could distract her from the fact that she was in space for the first time in her life. Echo stood off to the side, her arms crossed as she leaned against the wall. As he got closer, Clarke’s voice came into focus.

 

“—out there? This is Clarke Griffin kom SkaiKru, do you copy?”

 

“This is Raven Reyes, come in, do you read me?” Raven replied, testing their signal. She swore, noticing it didn’t go through, and pushed away from the panel, stalking towards the exit.

 

“Where are you going?” Bellamy asked, side stepping to block her path. She hadn’t fixed the signal yet. She had to keep working, right?

 

Raven met his eyes and scoffed. “I fixed everything I could in here. Our signal is not getting through. Now step aside, I need to cool off,” she said, her tone short and clipped.

 

Bellamy hesitated. “Raven, if we can’t get a signal out—“

 

Raven shoved him with both hands, and despite being clearly exhausted, it was enough to get him to fumble back a few steps. “I said move, Blake!” And with that, she was gone.

 

Bellamy ended up sitting at the control panel. Murphy and Emori left, presumably to either go to their room, or help Monty with the algae farm. With the burns on Monty’s hands, physical labor wasn’t easy. That left Bellamy and Echo.

 

“She asked for you,” Echo said bluntly, raising an eyebrow when Bellamy looked at her. “Before you came in. She called for you specifically.”

 

Bellamy clenched his jaw, turning back to the screen. The void in his chest started to roar once more, having been ignored for far too long. He had nothing to say to that. If only he could answer Clarke, to let her know that he was there, all thanks to her. To let her know he would find his way back to her, whatever it took.

 

“You know, I never understood why you never told her how you felt,” Echo said, stepping forward and plopping down in the chair next to Bellamy’s.

 

Bellamy’s eyebrows furrowed and he looked at her, caught off guard. She was never one to beat around the bush, but this seemed to come out of nowhere. “What?”

 

Echo rolled her eyes. “Yu hodnes Wanheda. Anyone with eyes could see that. I just happened to be trained to know everything about everyone.”

 

Bellamy swallowed, sitting back in his chair. He hesitated, not wanting to open up to someone who had betrayed them so recently, time and time again. He couldn’t trust her, not yet. But there was no one around, and as soon as he opened his mouth, the truth came spilling out. “It… never seemed like a good time,” he admitted with a shrug.

 

Echo huffed out a quick laugh. “No time will ever seem like the right time, especially not when you lead a group of people. There will always be something that comes up, demanding your attention. It was up to you to make time, for someone you cared about.”

 

Bellamy couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at her. “And what would you know about the responsibilities of a leader?” he asked, his tone biting and harsh.

 

Echo mirrored his expression. “I stood by King Roan’s side for years. Like I said, I was trained to observe everyone.”

 

Bellamy hummed, turning his attention back to the screens. After a pause, he spoke again. “You’re right. I should have told her. Now I don’t get the chance to.”

 

Echo glanced at the radio, but kept her gaze fixed on Bellamy, as if she was reading him like an open book. “What would you even say? It’s not like it means anything now. The earth is uninhabitable for five years, and the supplies in that bunker will run out far before that time is up. Even if she rations, Wanheda will run out of food and water before the year is up,” she said, her tone cold.

 

Bellamy turned to her, his fist clenched on top of the control panel. His whole body was tense. “Clarke gave you _her suit_ so that you could come with us. She gave you a spot on _our_ rocket, so that you wouldn’t burn _alone_ in Praimfiya. Would you have rather she left you, the only legacy left behind that of a _traitor_?” he spat, barely holding back the desire to force Echo into an air lock and open the doors, sucking her into space.

 

Echo grimaced, leaning towards him. “I owe Wanheda my life. I acknowledge that, and I will honor her by contributing as much as I can. But it is delusional to think that she can survive in that bunker for five years. That radiation scorched the ground, leaving nothing in its wake. Even if she managed to withstand the conditions outside, she wouldn’t be able to find anything to survive.” She stood up, walking a few steps towards the door before turning to face him once more. “I’m sorry, Bellamy, but you have to use your head.”

 

*

 

Raven came charging back into the control room hours later, looking wild but focused. “Bellamy, come with me. I need you to open the air lock,” she said, nearly stumbling over her words. Bellamy looked up from the screens, where he was accessing some old files; mainly trying to find the digital library so that he had something to fill the time between Clarke’s calls.

 

“What for?” he asked, his brow furrowed as he watched Raven excitedly bounce on the balls of her feet.

 

“There’s a satellite on the outer shell of the ark. If I can get that working, we have a shot of getting a signal down to Clarke,” Raven explained, looking like she was ready to jump out of her skin. “I get to go on a space walk!”

 

Bellamy couldn’t help it, the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. “Go suit up. I’ll go get Emori to help, okay? We’ll meet you at the air lock.” Raven nodded and bounced off, and Bellamy couldn’t help but notice that she had less of a limp in space than she did on the ground. The artificial gravity must be helping.

 

He turned back to the screen for a moment, looking at their dead radio signal, and suddenly it didn’t seem so daunting.

 

*

 

Clarke had spent hours gathering all of the supplies in the bunker to take inventory and ration it the best she could. After laying it all out, her shoulders slumped. _32 days_ , she thought. _That’s the best I can do with what’s here. After that… I’ll have to hope that opening that door doesn’t kill m_ e. She shook her head and sat down at the main computer in Becca’s lab.

 

 

“There has to be something here about radiation levels that can help me,” Clarke mumbled. She wasn’t as good as Raven was with computers, but she picked up the basics. She did a quick search for the calculations Raven did while she was figuring out the path of Praimfiya, and managed to pull them up. There was an obvious spike in radiation levels as the wave hit, and for several days after, the chart showed that there was barely any change. Clarke frowned, looking for the biggest drop in levels.

 

Day 28. It was slight, but looked like the best chance she had to leave. She didn’t even know what day they were on now, since there was no gauge of time when you were the only person on earth; but if she had to guess, she would say that it was day 2.

 

_I have 26 days to prepare as much as I can. After that… I’ll have to take my chances_.

 

Clarke didn’t even know where she should go. Her first thought was the bunker. If she could somehow get them to open the door, she would at least have a better chance than out in the elements. The bunker was drivable in less than a day, but without the rover, it was a several day journey. If she left on day 28, she would have six days to make it to the bunker on foot before she ran out of food, and another day or so with water.

 

She picked up the radio, closing her eyes and sending out a prayer, good vibes, anything she could think of, before pressing the talk button. “If anyone is out there, this is Clarke Griffin kom SkaiKru. I’m in Becca Pramheda’s lab. I have enough supplies to last me 32 more days. In 26 days, I’m going to go outside, and try to make my way to a safe place, hopefully the bunker. If you can hear me… please help.”

 

*

 

All of SpaceKru rushed into the control center as soon as Raven came in from her space walk. According to her, she had aligned the panels and rewired it to create a stronger signal. Still in her space suit, sans helmet, Raven rushed to the radio and began boosting the signal. Bellamy watched her work, his heart pounding in his chest. This was it: their last stitch attempt at getting signal down to the ground. If this didn’t work, they would have no hope of ever talking to Clarke.

 

Raven took a deep breath, watching the monitor as she pressed the transmission button. “This is Raven Reyes from the Ark. Can anyone hear me? Over,” she said, making sure to be as clear as possible. Everyone in the room seemed to hold their breath, and then Raven sighed, although it didn’t sound like she felt very relieved.

 

“What happened?” Harper asked, the first one to speak. Bellamy glanced at her briefly before fixing his gaze onto Raven.

 

“The signal went through the atmosphere,” Raven said, still not turning to face everyone behind her.

 

“That sounds like there is a ‘but’ missing,” Murphy mumbled, earning an elbow in the ribs from Emori. He scowled at her in return.

 

“Clarke’s tower was too far away to be reached. With the Earth’s rotation, we have to be within a certain distance to reach her tower. Without that, she can’t hear us,” Raven said, and turned to Bellamy. “We should be able to reach her in a few hours, five to six if I had to guess. We’ll be in her range for about three hours at a time before she goes out again.”

 

Emori tilted her head. “Then how has Clarke’s signal been getting to us when she’s not in range?”

 

Raven sighed. “Becca’s lab has stronger towers than we do. The signal is able to project farther than we can.” She sighed, unzipping her space suit and shrugging her way out of the arms. “I got it working, but… we just have to wait.” And with that, she walked out, letting her hair out from its ponytail.

 

The rest of SpaceKru seemed unsure of what to do now. They all stood frozen for a few seconds before Monty was the one to break the silence. “Well, if anyone is willing, I need some helping hands in the algae farm!” he said, trying to brighten the stagnant mood in the room.

 

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Oh float me now,” he grumbled, taking Emori’s hand and leading her out of the room towards the living quarters.

 

The rest of them shuffled off, leaving Bellamy standing alone. He looked at the screens, hearing the dull howl of the void inside of his chest. The emptiness threatened to consume him, but he sat down and rested his head against the back of the chair.

 

_If it wants to take me, it needs to wait until after I talk to her_.

 

*

 

Five hours had passed since Clarke had sent out her last transmission, and she was redressing some of her wounds, wincing as she poured the alcohol over the burns across her chest and shoulders. These areas seemed to be the worst, as they had been closest to the junction of the helmet and the radiation suit, where there was least protection. With how deep the burns were, she had no doubt that there would be some scarring once she was healed. There was also a part of her jaw that she knew wouldn’t heal right, but she was keeping an eye on it to check the healing process.

 

The radio beside her let out a crackle, and Clarke stared at it for a moment. Did that just happen? Or was she so desperate that she just willed it into her mind? It didn’t make another sound for a while, so Clarke went back to cleaning her burns on her shoulder, then moved down to her upper arms.

 

Suddenly, another crackle, followed by “—Blake, can anyone hear me?”

 

Clarke dropped the alcohol bottle, which luckily only splashed out a little as she scrambled to pick up the radio. She held it up to her face before replying. “Bellamy?” in a quiet voice.

 

“Hey Princess,” was the reply she got after a few seconds, and she felt like she could weep. She let out a shaky breath and rested her head on the top of the radio.

 

_He made it. He’s alive_ , her brain provided for her, and she had to hold back a sob of relief in an effort to stay calm.

 

“You there?” Bellamy’s voice came over the radio again, sounding a little worried this time.

 

Clarke let out a slightly hysterical laugh as she pressed the transmission button again. “I’m here, Bellamy. I’m just… so relieved,” she admitted, closing her eyes and smiling a genuine grin.

 

She heard Bellamy chuckle. “Me too, Clarke. Me too. How are you holding up?”

 

Clarke looked down at the supplies around her and sighed. “Better than expected, I guess,” she mumbled, then shook her head. “Sorry, that wasn’t fair. I’m fine, all things considered.”

 

Bellamy sighed, and she could hear the disappointment in it. “Clarke, how bad is it? I know you’re hurt. I heard you,” he said, his voice quiet.

 

Clarke’s brows furrowed. “You heard me? My transmissions? Why didn’t you answer before?” she asked.

 

“It’s complicated, and you’re ignoring my question,” Bellamy responded, his tone curt, but she could tell that there was true worry behind it.

 

She sighed. “I would say, 75% covered in third degree burns. My throat is torn up too, but obviously I can’t see how badly. Just a lot of coughing and some blood.”

 

Bellamy took a few seconds to respond, and she knew he was trying to compose himself. “I’m so happy you’re alive, Clarke. You have no idea.”

 

Clarke snorted. “And here I was thinking you all didn’t make it up to the Ark. Everyone is okay, right?” she asked, realizing she hadn’t heard about the rest of her friends yet

 

“Everyone is fine. Monty is trying to get the algae farm up and running, Raven and Emori are getting the rest of the ship’s systems going, Echo and Harper are helping where needed, and Murphy… well, you know Murphy,” Bellamy responded, and Clarke could picture the smirk on his face.

 

“And you? What have you been up to?” she asked.

 

There was a pause. “Waiting for your calls.”

 

Clarke swallowed harshly. “How many did you hear?”

 

“Most of them. Apparently I slept through a few, but we’ve gotten every one since your first, I think,” Bellamy said quietly.

 

Clarke winced. “Those first few were rough. I’m sorry.”

 

“Don’t apologize, princess. It’s my fault for leaving you down there,” he responded, his voice firm.

 

“What? No. Bellamy, you had to leave. Before the rocket launch, I radioed and told you and Raven not to wait for me,” Clarke said, feeling heated. Of course Bellamy was being a self-deprecating idiot. “You did what you had to do. You listened to your head. I’m proud of you for that.”

 

“You’re proud of me for leaving you there to die?” Bellamy said, his voice louder this time, more angry.

 

“Yes! Because that meant you were going to survive! If given the chance to redo it, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I would have told you to leave every time,” Clarke spat back, matching Bellamy’s tone. She didn’t get a response back for a minute, and she feared she had been too harsh. “Bellamy, look… you did what you had to do. I’m so, so proud of you. You listened to your head, just like I told you.”

 

There was a pause, but Bellamy’s voice came back over the radio. “Thanks, princess,” he said, his voice soft, no longer biting and bitter.

 

Clarke sighed. “Anytime, Bell.” She looked down at the alcohol bottle beside her. “I have to finish cleaning the burns. Will you… will you stay with me?” she asked.

 

“Yeah, Clarke, I’ll stay with you,” Bellamy replied. “We won’t be in range for much longer, but I’ll do my best to stay as long as I can, okay?”

 

“Okay.”

 

*

 

“Princess? …Clarke?” Bellamy asked, his eyes flickering over the screen. No reply.

 

“The signal is gone,” came a voice from behind him, and he turned to see Raven leaning against the doorway, her arms crossed.

 

Bellamy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, his head bowed.

 

Raven smirked. “And how’s your ‘princess’ doing?” she asked, stepping into the room and sitting in the chair next to Bellamy’s.

 

Bellamy rolled his eyes and glanced up at her. “She’s fine. She wanted me to talk to her while she redressed her burns,” he said, then frowned. “I think it was more to distract her from the pain, but since I can’t be there to help…”

 

“You were willing to do anything,” Raven filled in, nodding in acknowledgement. “Were you reading her ‘The Odessey?’” she asked, her expression amused.

 

Bellamy chuckled. “No, I was telling her about Persephone. She was always O’s favorite, so I’ve got her story memorized.”

 

Raven was quiet for a moment. “Monty says he should have the first batch of algae ready in a week. We drew sticks to see who had to try it first.”

 

Bellamy raised an eyebrow. “And?”

 

“Murphy,” Raven said, trying to contain her laughter, but failing miserably.

 

Bellamy huffed out a laugh and shook his head. “He must be thrilled.”

 

“Oh, he already told me to get the airlock ready for him to float himself,” Raven replied. “Hey, did you ever pick out a sleeping quarter? I didn’t see your stuff anywhere when Emori and I were down that way.”

 

Bellamy cleared his throat. “No, I should do that.” He pushed himself up from his chair and glanced at the monitors. “If Clarke calls again—“

 

“I’ll send for you,” Raven said, rolling her eyes.

 

*

 

The next day, Clarke woke up with a start, gasping for breath, which sent her into a coughing fit. She could swear she felt the heat of the radiation surrounding her, the panic of trying to get the lab door open, the pain as her skin began to blister _. Just a dream. It was just a dream_. She struggled to slow her breathing, but once she did, she reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the radio.

 

“Clarke Griffin to Ark, over.”

 

No response. _Must not be in range yet_ , her brain supplied helpfully.

 

Her heart was still racing, threatening to burst out of her chest at any second. She needed a distraction, something to get the burning memory out of her head.

 

She slipped out of bed and shuffled off to the main area of the lab. It was getting slightly easier to move, although mostly due to growing a tolerance for the constant pain. Her eyes flickered to the launch pad of the rocket, but she had to force herself to look away when the memory of watching it leave flashed in her mind. _Stop_.

 

She looked up to the banister above, swearing she saw movement out of the corner of her eye. “Hello?” she called, her voice cracking from lack of use. The logical side of her knew that she was alone in there, terribly alone. There was no response, but she climbed the steps regardless. She looked around when she got to the top, and saw a figure sitting at a desk through one of the frosted windows. It was dark, but she swore, there was someone in that chair, the same place that Bellamy had called Octavia to say goodbye.

 

As fast as she could, she rounded the corner into the room, only to be met with an empty desk and an icy feeling down her spine. She was sure she had seen someone through the frosted window. A tightness gripped her chest, and Clarke spun around, unable to look at the empty room anymore. She slid to the ground, back against the cold window pane. Her hands were shaking as she lifted the radio.

 

“Bellamy, please come in, please,” she said, trying her best to keep the fear out of her voice, but the noise she made was barely above a whisper.

 

“Clarke?” came a reply, but it wasn’t Bellamy’s voice. It was…

 

“Harper?” Clarke asked, her breath hitching. The tightness in her chest felt like it was crushing her. “Where’s Bellamy?”

 

“I think he’s sleeping,” came another voice, this time she recognized it as Murphy.

 

Clarke swallowed, trying to get rid of the knot in her throat. “Can you get him? Please?” she asked, her voice strained, barely squeaking out.

 

There was a pause before another transmission came through. “Harper went to go get him. Are you okay?” She hadn’t heard Murphy sound this… soft before. It was an odd change from his usual cynicism and sarcasm.

 

“I can’t breathe,” she managed to choke out, her free hand on her chest, almost as if she was trying to manually control her rapid heartbeat.

 

“What happened?” Murphy’s voice sounded genuinely concerned.

 

Clarke shook her head, despite knowing Murphy couldn’t see her. “I-I don’t know, I woke up from a nightmare and I came out to the main lab and… I swear, I’m not crazy,” she sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut. “But I saw something moving up on the walkway, so I went up to see what it was.” She inhaled sharply, desperately trying to get air. She was starting to feel lightheaded, like she was going to pass out. “Someone was in the office. _I saw them_. But when I walked in, no one was there.”

 

There was a pause, and she worried they had lost signal for a moment, before Murphy replied. “Alright, Clarke, you have to stay calm. Take a deep breath, I’ll count it out for you, okay? Ready? In, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and out, 1, 2, 3, 4—“

 

Suddenly, as Clarke was letting out a shaky exhale, Harper’s voice interrupted Murphy. “Bellamy’s not in his room.”

 

Murphy swore, and when he spoke again, his voice was further away from the microphone. “I know where he is. Listen, I think Clarke is having a panic attack. Sit with her, try and calm her down, and I’ll go get him.”

 

There was a bit of shuffling heard before Harper’s voice was at the microphone. “Murphy’s going to get Bellamy. He’ll be right back, Clarke, I promise.” Harper’s voice had its own soothing quality. She was always so calm, even in the worst situations. It was one of the reasons she was always sent on scouting missions. That, and she was great with a rifle.

 

Clarke was still trying to breathe like Murphy told her, but her head was filled with rushing images of melting trees, burning flesh, the rocket leaving the lab. She let out a shaky sob, not caring that her thumb was still on the transmission button. She heard Harper say something else, but the words were drowned out by the same screams she heard as she ran through the woods, desperate to get back to the lab.

 

*

 

“Bellamy!”

 

Bellamy’s head whipped up when he heard his name. Murphy sounded panicked, and Murphy never sounded panicked. He stood up from the bed in Clarke’s cell and met Murphy in the doorway. He was clearly out of breath, seemingly from sprinting all the way to the cell block of the ship. Without bothering to give an explanation, Murphy grabbed Bellamy’s forearm and dragged him out of Clarke’s old cell.

 

“Murphy, what the hell? Where are we going?” Bellamy barked out, following behind Murphy as they headed back towards the center of the Ark.

 

“Clarke called, she needs you,” Murphy said, in between panting. “She’s having a panic attack. I think she had some sort of PTSD flashback. She said she saw someone in the lab, but no one was there.”

 

Bellamy grimaced, his pace quickening. “Is anyone with her, on the radio?” he asked, worried Murphy had left her to spiral alone.

 

Murphy nodded. “Harper’s there, but I don’t think either of us were getting through to her.”

 

They rounded the corner, and Bellamy jogged into the control room. His feet skidded to a halt when he heard Clarke’s broken sobs over the radio’s speaker. His heart skipped a beat at the sound, and a knot welled up in his throat. Harper looked up at him, clearly defeated. “I tried everything. I don’t even think she’s hearing me anymore.”

 

Bellamy rushed forward and picked up the microphone. “Clarke? Hey, Clarke, can you hear me?”

 

Her sobs hiccupped for a moment, and she sniffled. “Bellamy?” Her voice was so small, and she let out another sob.

 

Bellamy closed his eyes. “Hey princess. I heard you were having a rough time,” he murmured, sitting down in his usual chair, his shoulders slouched. “What can I do, Clarke? I… I can’t…”

 

Another sniffle. “I don’t know. I feel like I’m going insane,” she admitted.

 

“You’re not going insane, Clarke. You went through a fucking apocalypse. It would be abnormal if you _didn’t_ show some sort of grief,” he said, keeping his voice calm, despite the fact that his heart ached for her. “You went through hell. It’s okay if you break down, as long as you get back up.”

 

There was a pause. “Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim.” She sounded slightly calmer, her voice more even.

 

The corner of Bellamy’s mouth raised. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was something. “Exactly.”

 

Another pause. “I don’t want to be alone for five years,” Clarke whispered, clearly not wanting to admit it to herself, let alone Bellamy.

 

Bellamy’s expression dropped. He clenched his jaw, not quite sure what to say. He didn’t want to lie to her, to tell her that everything would be okay. The truth was, surviving alone wasn’t easy. Given the state of the Earth, the next five years would be hell. He knew it, Clarke knew it. Suddenly, a thought came to him.

 

_You still have hope?_

_We’re still breathing._

 

Bellamy swallowed. “Will you wait for me?” he asked, his voice quiet.

 

“What?”

 

“Will you wait for me to come home in five years?” he asked, his tone completely serious.

 

A pause. “Of course.”

 

“Then I promise you, in five years, you won’t be alone anymore. I will never leave you again. I will spend the rest of my life by your side, if that’s what you want. You will never have to feel like this again. You just have to wait for me to get home, okay?”

 

There was a moment where Bellamy thought their signal had faded, but then Clarke replied. “I’ll be there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! Since you came so far, if you liked it, leave a kudos or a comment. I'd love to hear from you!


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